Looking Through the Mirror
by Abigail Parks
Summary: Post Inheritance. Ismira never really got to know her Uncle Eragon, who left Alagaesia when she was barely a year old. How will the distance affect their relationship? Full Summary inside
1. Intro

**Heyy everyone! New story!  
>This is a story about Ismira and her uncle Eragon. It won't be a traditional story, just several different points in Ismira's life.<strong>

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><p><span>Intro<span>

Ismira, daughter of Katrina and Roran Stronghammer, never really got to meet her Uncle Eragon, a Dragon Rider, who left Alagaesia when she was barely a year old. The only memory she can truly remember is a kind, elf-like man looking down at her and smiling, while a huge dragon, whose blue scales sparkled like gemstones, gazed down at her from above the man's shoulder with a glittering blue eye.

Since then, the only times Ismira has seen her uncle is when she's spoken to him through an enchanted mirror in her father's study. The small, magical device is her only connection to the one relative she barely knows.

Follow Ismira as she grows up and grows to know Eragon, and in turn, how his distance from her affects them both.

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><p><strong>First chapter will be up soon, I promise!<br>Plz tell me what you think!**


	2. Chapter 1

**Hey, so here's chapter one everybody!**

**Hope it was worth the wait, and thank you to everyone who left a review for the summary :)**

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><p><span>Chapter 1<span>

Far away, in a land beyond the borders of Alagaesia, Eragon sat in a large hall that had recently been completed, and pulled a medium sized mirror out of a protective leather satchel. It had been several months since he'd last contacted Roran and his family in Palancar Valley.

Closing his eyes, he passed a hand over the mirror and voiced the spell which would allow him to contact his cousin. When he opened his eyes a moment later, he watched as colours began to bloom across the mirror's surface, spreading out in invisible ripples until it resolved into a rather plain looking study.

Roran sat at a table, looking at a paper full of scrawled runes with a look of mild confusion.

Eragon bit back a laugh as he asked, "Studying your letters there, Stronghammer?"

Roran, who had jumped slightly at his cousin's voice, grinned through his beard. "You took your time getting back to us. Last I saw of you was your tail end when you were running off after someone told you about a hatching egg. That was what, four months ago? Five? I've lost count."

"I've been busy, Roran."

Roran chuckled, "Oh, I know. So how goes the training of your new Riders?"

"Well enough. And how goes the rebuilding of Carvahall?"

"Faster than I expected. It seems half the time I need to force the men to rest."

The two continued to talk until Katrina entered the room. Her gleaming copper hair was bound in a tight bun. On one hip she balanced her second child, a boy, and in her hand she held a tray filled with steaming food.

Her face lit up when she saw Eragon, "Greetings, Rider." She placed the food on the desk in front of her husband and ordered, "Eat. You've been working since before dawn and you need a break." With a smile she said, "Please excuse me for a moment, Eragon. Ismira has wanted to see you for many days now and she won't forgive us if she doesn't get to speak with you now."

Roran watched her go, then looked at his cousin ruefully, "She's been saying that to me for a month or more."

"She's right though." Eragon ran his eyes over the lines that were becoming etched in his cousin's face, "At this rate, you'll be grey before the crops are harvested and your children with mistake you for a village elder."

"Careful now, else I'll have to give you a boot upsides the head."

"You'd have to find me first and pray to the gods that Saphira wasn't near."

The two laughed like a pair of young boys, and didn't stop until Katrina re-entered the room, followed by a young girl who was only four years of age and shared her mother's copper-coloured hair.

Roran pulled the small girl onto his lap so she could see into the mirror.

Ismira gave her uncle a huge smile, revealing her small white teeth, "Uncle Eragon!"

"Hello, Ismira. How are you?"

"I'm good. Mother made me a new dress!" The small girl lifted her dark green skirt for Eragon's inspection.

"Your mother is quite skilled at that." Roran, who had returned to his papers, smiled when Eragon mentioned his wife.

Suddenly, Ismira's face became sad, her eyes huge and watery on her small face. "Uncle, why are you so far away? Why do you never visit us?"

A pained look crossed Eragon's face, "I can't Ismira. I'm busy, being a teacher and mentor here. But believe me you; I love you and your family dearly."

Ismira looked up at her father, "Can we visit Uncle Eragon, Father? Please?"

Roran looked down at her large, pleading eyes, and gently rubbed her back. "Not now, Ismira, but perhaps when you are older. It's a very long journey and I fear that both you and your brother are far too young to make it. And I also have responsibilities that I must carry out here."

"If you ever do wish to visit," said Eragon, "You shall always be welcome here."

Ismira's smile returned, "As soon as Father says so, I'll come and see you, Uncle."

"I look forward to that day, Ismira." A voice echoed through the hall behind Eragon, and he called back something in the Ancient Language to whoever spoke. His expression became apologetic as he returned his attention to Roran and Ismira. "Forgive me. There appears to be an issue between two of my young Riders. My presence is required."

Roran nodded, "Be well and stay strong, brother."

"Sé onr sverdar sitja hvass, Stronghammer. Good health to you and your family."

Ismira's eyes became large pools, brimming with tears once again, "Are you saying farewell now, Uncle?"

"I must, dear Ismira. But worry not, I will contact you again."A twinkle gleamed in Eragon's eyes. "Ismira, would you like to hear a little secret?"

"Oh, do tell me!"

"Lean in closely and I'll whisper it to you."

The young girl bent her face towards the mirror until her nose was but a hair's breadth from its cold, polished surface. She seemed oblivious to the fact that her father was still present and scarcely dared to breathe.

Eragon whispered, "When I gave this mirror to your mother and father, I enchanted it so that they could contact me whenever they wish. If you ever want to speak with me, Ismira, all you must do is say to the mirror, 'Show me Eragon Shadeslayer' and you can contact me." The voice in the background called out again. "Farewell Ismira."

"Farewell, Uncle." The girl responded in a small voice. Eragon smiled as his image faded to black, and then the mirror cleared to reveal Ismira and Roran's faces.

Ismira buried her face into her father's shirt, tears spilling from her eyes like an overfull cup. Quiet sobs racked her body.

Roran rubbed her back, "There now, there now, you'll see your uncle again soon."

Ismira kept her face hidden, "Why must he live so far away?" She moaned the question into Roran's shirt.

"It's a long story, but when you're older and you can understand it all, I will tell you, I swear it."

Ismira wrapped her arms around her father, and he hugged her close to his chest, gently rocking her back and forth until she calmed, his warm arms providing the perfect comfort.

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><p><strong>I love writing parts for little kids cuz they're just so cute!<br>R&R! It'll make me update sooner ;) **


	3. Chapter 2

**Yay, chapter 2 finally! I know, I haven't updated in forever, and yes, I know you've been waiting. (bad author, BAD!)  
>I hope it was worth the wait :)<strong>

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><p><span>Chapter 2<span>

The seasons changed and slowly the years passed, and Ismira continued to grow up. The time passed so quickly in some ways, and so slowly in others, and within a short span of time, she was nine years old.

She snuck down the hall to her father's study. With her mother looking after her younger siblings and her father in the village, she was fairly certain she wouldn't be noticed. As quietly as she could, Ismira eased the door open and slipped inside, shutting the door behind her.

The study was more furnished than it had been five years ago. Shelves made of pine lined one wall and held a number of scrolls. The desk was a mess of quills and parchment- Roran wouldn't let Katrina clean it for him, and he had been far too busy the past weeks to do it himself- but the enchanted mirror still sat on it.

Ismira pulled herself onto the chair and dragged the mirror closer to her, wincing at the sound it made. She quickly looked around the room before whispering, "Show me Eragon Shadeslayer."

Ismira's reflection vanished as the mirror darkened, then brightened to show a large empty room with an arched ceiling carved from stone.

"Uncle?" Ismira called anxiously, "Uncle, where are you?" She waited for a minute, but there was no answer. "Uncle Eragon?"

She was about to turn away, disappointed, when she heard a door close and saw a tall woman with burnished silver hair walk into Ismira's field of view. When the woman brushed back her hair, Ismira saw she had pointed ears. An elf.

In a light, lilting tone, the elf woman asked, with a small smile, "May I help you, young miss?"

"I would like to speak to my uncle Eragon, if that would be possible."

"Of course. If you will excuse me for a moment, miss." The woman bowed and folded one hand over her chest in a strange gesture, then left.

Not two minutes later, Eragon entered the room, covered in sweat, with one hand resting on the hilt of his blue sword. He smiled, "Greetings, Ismira. It's been a while since we last talked."

"I know, Uncle." Her voice was thick with emotion and her eyes fluttered like the wings on a butterfly in an attempt to keep her tears at bay. "I wanted to talk to you."

"I have a few minutes to spare."

"I don't think Mother and Father like me anymore." At this moment, the tears began to fall, leaving shiny streaks down her face.

At once, Eragon's expression became sorrowful, though a rye smile tugged at his lips, "Now, Ismira, I know with absolute certainty that is not true."

"But Father is always working; be it in town, in the fields, or here in his study. I barely see him from dawn to sundown. And Mother is always busy with my brothers and sister. She's always doing chores and cooking and the like, and I hardly get to be with her." Ismira sniffed and wiped her face on the sleeve of her dress.

Eragon reached out as if to stroke her hair, but his hand stopped and merely slid across the mirror between them. "Ismira, I never had any younger siblings, so I don't know what it's like to be the oldest child. But what I do know is that your younger siblings depend on your parents far more than you do. Every day, you get stronger and can do more things yourself, whereas they must be helped by your parents.

"Also, your mother and father are quite busy. They both have important duties. I know that it all takes time away from you, but don't loath them for it. I know they both love you very much."

Ismira sighed, "Uncle, how did you become so wise?"

Eragon threw back his head and laughed, "Oh, dear, dear Ismira, I'm not half as wise as you believe me to be. About a decade and a half ago, when I was first joined to Saphira, I was a fool. I was trained by the two remaining Riders who escaped the wrath of the black king. They were wise, aye, but I feel that I must live for another century or more before I can consider myself wise."

That wrung a grin out of Ismira, and the dark mood inside her vanished. With her worries now settled, she began reciting nigh on everything that had happened in Palancar Valley over the past months; from the colour of the leaves in the beautiful autumn sunset, to the fact that her father had opened a small school in the village and a teacher was coming from Illirea. Then she insisted on hearing her uncle tell stories on the dragons and his riders, which she loved.

Time passed without notice, and outside the landscape turned to burnished copper and fire as the sun set. Eventually, Ismira's eyelids grew heavy and her stomach growled like a dragon.

"You should eat and get some rest, Ismira." Eragon said softly.

"But I don't want to say goodbye to you."

"Then don't. Just say, 'Until we see one another again'."

"Alright. Until we see one another again, Uncle."

Eragon smiled, "Sweet dreams, Ismira. May your days be full of sunshine and laughter." His image began to fade, darkness swirling around like fog until his face was completely obscured.

At that moment, Roran entered the study; his movements slow due to his weariness. He seemed surprised to see his eldest daughter sitting at the desk.

"Ismira, where have you been? Your mother has been looking for you." After a moment spent looking at her face, he asked, "Were you talking to Eragon?"

She nodded and looked away, "I like talking to him."

Roran sat on a nearby chair, "Ismira, sweetheart, I'm not asking you why you're contacting Eragon. He is your uncle, and you have every right to speak to him. Since he's a Rider, you barely know him. I have no problem with you talking to him, but I have one condition."

"What is that?"

"That it interferes with neither your studies and chores, nor his duties. And remember, your uncle is quite busy training his Riders."

"Yes, Father!" Ismira wrapped her arms around his neck, kissed his cheek, and then ran downstairs from where issued the enticing smells of food wafted.

Roran shook his head, smiling all the while at his eldest child, and followed her out.

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><p><strong>I've learned not to make promises about when I'll update next :) But I'll try to not make the wait this long!<strong>

**R&R plz!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Yay, short wait for new chapter!  
>Enjoy!<strong>

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><p><span>Chapter 3<span>

The seasons slowly turned, as is their wont. Leaves budded, bloomed, then changed colours and fell to the earth and became one with the forest floor. The humans in the land of Alagaesia said it was doing of Mother Nature; the dwarves claimed it was the work of their goddess Sindri; the Urgals called it the deed of their Great Mother, Rahna; and the elves said that it mayhap be the whisperings of the Menoa Tree.

Years slowly did pass, and in Carvahall, a young girl continued to grow up. Ismira blossomed into a lovely young woman, with the same, enchanting beauty that her mother had possessed in her youth. She spoke to her uncle, with few exceptions, nigh on every week. At times, she felt he was the only one who understood her and the only person in whom she could confide her feelings.

It was during another of their conversations that she voiced one of her feelings that, no doubt, wouldn't have been met with much approval had she said it in the village.

When the glass cleared, she saw her uncle intently reading a scroll covered in strange, graceful writing. He was so absorbed in the paper that he didn't notice her appearance in the mirror.

"Uncle," Ismira called softly. "I'd like to speak to you, if you aren't too busy, that is."

Eragon smiled at her, putting the scroll aside, "I'm never too busy for you, Ismira, you must know that." He paused, studying the troubled look on her face, "Is something wrong?"

Ismira bit her lip, "Uncle, as you very well know, in a few months time, I will celebrate my eighteenth birthday." She looked down, and didn't speak for several moments, enough time for Eragon to wonder if she was going to continue at all. After a minute, she resumed speaking, "And, as I'm sure you're also aware, Father wants me to marry. He wants me to find a good man and settle down and raise a family. The issue with that is, I'm not sure if I'm ready to marry, or if I even want to marry at all. And there's another thing. Ever since I was a little girl, I remember you and Father saying that when I was old enough, I could visit you in the land beyond Alagaesia. If I were to marry, I doubt I would be able to leave, as I would be responsible for a home and raising a family of my own. Help me, Uncle, please. I don't know what path I should take."

Eragon folded his hands in front of himself and stared at them, "Ismira, I know that within every society and culture that there are different customs, all of which make sense to that group of people; such as dwarves believing that they must be entombed in stone when they die, Urgals believing in fighting amongst themselves for prowess and renown, and our own traditions of marriage. However, not everyone in their society follows the traditions.

"For example, when I first found Saphira's egg, I was a few years younger than you are now. At that time, I was thinking about my future as a farmer, not a Rider. Though no woman had yet to catch my eye, I had planned to get married, then settle down on a farm in Palancar Valley. Becoming a Rider changed that.

"It is not your father's choice whether or not you get married, the choice is yours. Your life is your own, and you should not let other people choose how you live it. As for visiting me, I agree that you should make your journey before raising a family. Although, I must warn you that it is a very long journey to make by foot."

"When would I be able to see you?"

"It matters not to me; you are welcome here whenever you wish. However, you should speak with your parents on the matter. And you also should not go alone. There are many dangers that can face a lone woman travelling through the wilderness."

Blushing as she spoke, Ismira said, "Uncle, I have practiced defending myself. And Father taught me to hunt when I was younger, even though Mother didn't approve."

Eragon gave Ismira a weary look, "The wilderness is no such place for a young woman such as yourself to be alone, regardless of whether she can defend herself."

Ismira nodded, "And, Uncle, could you talk to Father for me?"

Unable to help himself, Eragon let loose a small chuckle, "When you talk of making the long journey to come visit me, you're as brave as a dragon, but when it comes to talking to your father about a matter close to your heart, you can be as timid as a mouse."

"I'm sure there are things which you've felt uncomfortable with in the past."

"Indeed, I have. And when that happened, I swallowed my fear and did what was necessary."

"With Saphira behind you, pushing you forward, no doubt." Ismira grinned widely.

Eragon's eyebrows rose, "I'll neither confirm nor deny those rumours."

Laughing, Ismira said, "I could always ask Father. He would know."

"Your father would tell you a story all right. He's weave a yarn as long as his beard."

Ismira covered her mouth in an attempt to stifle her laughter. Her uncle could always make her feel unfettered when something troubled her mind. "I suppose I'll talk to Father myself then, and perhaps ask him to spin a tale as you've said."

"I'm sure he will."

"I will contact you later, once I've spoken with Mother and Father."

Eragon smiled, "I shall await your call."

"Farewell, Uncle."

"Farewell, Ismira."

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><p><strong>R&amp;R plz!<strong>


	5. Chapter 4

**Horray, new chapter :)  
>celebratory cookies all around!<br>Enjoy, enjoy, enjoy**

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><p><span>Chapter 4<span>

"Show me Eragon Shadeslayer." Roran sat at the desk in his study, a desk that, if truth be told, he rarely used, on account of his many duties tending to the whole of Palancar Valley. It had been at least a week since he's last sat down to go through the many reports that it was his duty to tend to, and at least a month or more since he'd taken the time to sort through them. If it weren't for Katrina, he feared he would never be able to perform his duties to Nasuada's satisfaction. However, now, he was not tending to his duties, he was contacting his cousin.

Eragon's image appeared on the mirror's flawless surface, showing him bent over a thick scroll. He immediately put it down when he saw his cousin's grim face. "Roran, what's the matter? Is there a problem?"

Roran fingered his beard, "The problem here is my blasted cousin and his hare-brained ideas."

"_My_ ideas? If I recall correctly, you've had some of your own plans deemed to be such. But what of it?"

Roran's eyes hardened slightly. Although he loved Eragon and was loathed to be angry with him, the matter at the forefront of his mind was just as near to his heart as his cousin. "It isn't one of your ideas exactly, but that what you're putting into my daughter's head."

"Ismira? What has she said?"

"She seems to think that she's running off to join you and the Riders out beyond Alagaesia. Or so it seemed to me when we talked."

Eragon folded his hands on his lap, "What is it you want to ask me, Roran?"

"Why are you trying to convince my daughter to run off on such a journey?"

"If you remember, I was but a year younger than she was when I left Carvahall."

"Aye, but the circumstances are drastically different. There's no reason for her to tramp across the land and run away from her responsibilities here."

Eragon leaned forward and said softly, "Roran, I know how much you love your daughter, as I care for her as well. I know you want the very best for her, and that you will do what you must to ensure she has it. Like every father, I'm sure that you want her to find a good husband who treats her with kindness and affection, much like you treat Katrina, and who will provide her with a good home. You want her to have a good life." His face was kind, and he said gently, "However, Ismira's life is her own, and you must let her live it as she sees fit. If she wishes to visit me here, you must accept that, for she is a grown woman and can make her own choices. It is her choice whether or not she wishes to marry and raise a family. You have raised her well, but you must let her choose her own path, for if you set her on one, she will resent you for it and rebel against it with every fibre of her being."

Roran sighed, "I know. But she's my eldest child. I fought to protect her before she was even born, to keep Galbatorix's men away from our camp. It as her birth that allowed me to truly think about returning to Palancar Valley and having a life here. Losing her, it will change everything."

"Don't think of it as losing her, for while she is your child, she is her own person. Think of it instead as letting her go."

"You're right, Eragon. Blast you, but you're right." The set of Roran's face changed as he accepted it. "Katrina won't be pleased. To have any of our children leave would be like a knife wound for her."

Eragon smirked, "Come now, Stronghammer. Your wife is stronger than that. You must forget that she fought tooth and nail when the Ra'zac took her."

"Well, it is something I'd rather not have happened."

The pair didn't speak for a moment as they reminisced in memories, not all of which were pleasant. Images of battle, bloody weapons and wounded bodies rose to each of their minds. The faint sound of steel on steel and the hoarse battle cries of soldiers seemed to echo in their ears through the many years.

Roran shook his body, as if to rid himself of the unpleasant recollections like he would an irksome fly. "Eragon, I am decided. Ismira may visit you, but I have a condition."

"Name it."

"You must ensure she is protected fully. I won't have her travel alone. I want you to see to it that she is protected on her journey to and from the land beyond Alagaesia. If anything happens to her, I will tear apart the very mountains with my bare hands to save her."

"Of that, I have no doubt."

"Watch out for her, Shadeslayer. The two of you have a special connection. Use it to keep her from harm. I couldn't bear it to lose my first child, or any of my children for that matter, but Ismira is very dear. It was her and her mother whom I fought for when Galbatorix reigned tyranny over the land. I'm not saying my other children are any lesser, as I fought for their lives as well, but when Ismira was conceived, I truly realized that the Black King must die."

"I understand completely, Roran." Eragon plucked a piece of parchment from his desk. "An elven ship will be journeying here from Du Weldenvarden before the end of the summer. I can ask Arya to see to Ismira's arrival to the forest and from there, the elves upon the ship will be more than capable of guarding her."

Having seen the elves prowess himself, Roran had to agree, "If you can guarantee that, I would feel much better about allowing this. Thank you much, Eragon."

"Think nothing of it. Now, I suspect Ismira will be eager to hear the news and won't take it too kindly if you keep that information from her for a second longer than you have to."

Roran shook his head, "I trust you can make all the arrangements?"

"Of course."

"Then I suspect she will contact you fairly soon to learn them."

"Fair well, Stronghammer."

"You as well, Shadeslayer."

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><p><strong>So? Opinions? Questions? Requests? R&amp;R!<strong>


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